2 Girls 1 Cup
by Luan Mao
Summary: Every author needs to put up a story that no one should read. This is mine.
1. Cups, Champions, and Crap

Disclaimer: I do not own the _Harry Potter_ franchise. Nor do I particularly want to. I do not own _Hungry Bitches_. Nor would I take it if it were gift-wrapped.

Warning: Parodic nastiness ahead. If you have seen the trailer commonly referred to as "2 Girls 1 Cup" you'll recognize elements of it in this story. If you haven't seen the trailer, you don't want to. Trust me on this. If you're looking for literary merit, a plot that makes any kind of sense, or a worthwhile way to spend a few minutes, this story is not what you're looking for. Trust me on this.

...oooOOOooo...

**2 Girls 1 Cup**

_'H' 'a' 'r' Was it one R or two? Spelling never made any sense. 'r' 'i'. That doesn't look right, but with this worthless eye always needing cleaning, nothing ever looks right. 'J' 'a' Blast this old, arthritic hand for getting tired already! 'n' 'e' What was that? Nothing. 'P' 'o' 't' 't' 'e' 'r'. Fold it up and we're off downstairs. You'll get yours, Potter, wait and see._

...oooOOOooo...

Harry sat next to Hermione at the Selection Feast. She was his lifeline, the only thing keeping him from going crazy. It had been a mostly bad summer (Dursleys and Death Eaters), a poor first two months of the school year (Death Eater spawn feeling their oats on top of the usual Snape, Trelawney, and DADA professor of the year), and an utterly rotten last few days (swaggering Durmstrangers lording it over the Hogwarts students and staff, prissy Beauxbatoners complaining about everything, Slytherins showing off to impress the Durmstrangers, Ron obsessing over that one French girl, and that one French girl). And today, of course, was Halloween, hardly a stellar day on the Harry Potter calendar. "I tell you, Hermione, if this Halloween is like every other Halloween, I'm going to lose it. I'm tired of the garbage that keeps getting dumped on me."

"Just relax, Harry. It'll be fine. Just wait and see."

Harry looked at Hermione skeptically but kept quiet about his dreams of rampaging through the school or of feeding Dumbledore's beard into a kitchen garbage disposal.

Before long Dumbledore was reading the names as they came flying out of the Goblet of Fire.

"For Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacouer."

The prissiest French girl, the one Ron (and half of the other boys in school) had been drooling over, walked up between the tables, head high and never looking to the side. Like a goddess accepting her due without acknowledging her worshippers. Although Harry noticed that few of the girls in the Great Hall were applauding, and no other student from Beauxbatons. Sure, she was nice to look at, especially that trim behind which was nicely outlined by her blue uniform (much more flattering than the shapeless, black sacks Hogwarts inflicted on their students) but there had to be something wrong with her if she didn't have any friends to applaud her selection. And that was besides the compulsion charm she always had on her. It felt a little like the allure from the veela at the world cup, but the veela were ugly once you broke through the allure. Whatever her problems might be, this girl was _not_ ugly.

"Harry!" Hermione elbowed him hard. "That's rude! How would you like it if people stared at you? If they undressed you with their eyes as you walked by?"

"Ah, Hermione? Boy Who Lived here. Fan-girls in every year, in case you haven't noticed."

"Hmmph. It's different for girls. It would serve you right to have to be a girl for a day."

Soon enough all three champions had been selected. The judges headed after the champions as Dumbledore turned to the students to dismiss them.

But with a final burst of flames, one more piece of paper came flying out of the cup.

"Harri Jane Potter? No, it must be Harry James Potter. Harry Potter, please come up here."

"What? I can't be a champion. I never put my name in the cup."

"Nevertheless, your name has come out. Please join the other champions."

"I will not. I refuse to participate in yet another thing that will kill me at Hogwarts."

The flames coming out of the Goblet of Fire rose higher. A magical pull from the Goblet to Harry strengthened until he couldn't ignore it. It was like Moody's Imperius, telling him to do something. Harry held his wand high. "I, Harry James Potter, will never participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

The cup's pull relaxed, and so did Harry. Then, with a burst of flame that almost reached the enchanted ceiling, the Goblet of Fire sent Harry tumbling with an overwhelming magical wave.

Being somewhat familiar with magical attacks, Harry got up and began checking for effects. Head, arms, hands, legs all in place. No fur or fangs. No tail. Balance was off a bit. Harry felt his chest, then pulled out the front of his pants in front of everyone. "Aaaagh!"

Dumbledore looked at the paper fluttering in his hand and read the words outlined in fire. "Harri Jane Potter, the Goblet has spoken. Please accompany me to meet with the judges and other champions."

Not giving Harry – _Harri_ – time to get over the shock or even to adjust to his – _her_ – new body, Dumbledore floated her behind him.

...oooOOOooo...

Harri stomped out of the side room in a high dudgeon. For what seemed like hours she'd been interrogated about her name being in the cup. Morons. _Harry_'s name had never been in the cup, and if he'd wanted to cheat his way into the tournament, he wouldn't have done it in a way that got him turned into a girl.

And if he had wanted to be a girl, it would be a more obviously girly girl. That was the other half of Harri's current bad temper. That prissy princess Fleur was bad enough but then cow-woman Maxime had hooked a finger into the top of Harri's shirt to take a look. "Are you quite sure your champion was changed into a girl, Dumblydoor? He still looks like a boy to me."

Harri's punch to the large woman's crotch didn't do anything except hurt her hand. "Ho ho ho. He's aggressive. Per'aps he will survive the tournament. But you will find I am too much woman for you, leetle boy."

Coming back into the Great Hall, Harri saw that the briefing, er, interrogation, er, confrontation could not have taken long at all. All of the students were still at their tables eating what must be a second course of sweets.

Harri stopped short when the mob of students noticed her. The hostile looks were rather familiar from past years, but totally undeserved tonight. Not that Harri expected much better from these brainless sheep.

But Miss Prissy Princess was too busy taking in the adulation of her throngs of worshippers or basking in her own glory or whatever was going through her bird brain to notice that Harri had stopped. The larger girl plowed into the smaller, sending the smaller flying into a dish of chocolate custard.

Harri stood up and turned to face Fleur slowly, gloppy brown smeared across her face.

The French girl gave a delicate, supercilious, and oh-so-upper crust laugh at Harri's appearance. "Get used to the mud, leetle boy. That is where you will be when the real champions are done with you."

Harri growled, murder as well as chocolate in her eye.

"Oh ho, be careful, leetle boy. You don't want to hurt your other hand."

That was the final straw. With a roar of fury, Harri leaped at the blonde French girl. They went down in a tangle, arms flailing, wands forgotten. They were rolling around too fast for any spells from the few competent adults to tag them and put them to sleep. Not too fast for the audience to enjoy the show, however.

Fleur was bigger than Harri, but she had a bird-boned structure which didn't allow for much strength. Harri, while small, was wiry and tough. And Harry had grown up with Dudley's friends beating on him. Fleur didn't stand a chance.

Dishes went flying as the two flailed around, spreading deserts over everything. Chocolate had apparently been the evenings feature, and featured prominently in the smears on hands and clothes.

And breasts. Fleur's top came open with a blizzard of snowy white flesh which didn't stay white for very long.

It didn't all go Harri's way, though. Fleur got in a solid kick. Harri couldn't help it. She'd eaten a large dinner. She puked the whole thing up. Right into Fleur's face.

Enraged even more than before, Fleur grabbed Harri with renewed energy. Harri's robe came down and then her shirt ripped, spilling her not-so-bountiful new assets out for everyone to see.

"So… ah… is Harry a boy or what?" "Uh, a girl?" "Maybe a he-she?"

The comments from the peanut gallery did nothing but enrage Harri further.

A cup had landed on the floor near Harri's butt. A fudge brownie had fallen into the pumpkin juice. Perfect. Harri scooped out a handful of the loose brown solid mass and smeared it across Fleur's perfect, perfect face. A large clump went into her mouth.

But before Fleur could use her rage to shred this puny, English pretender, a pair of stunners caught the two and ended the fight. But not the free show, as the two half-dressed, filthy girls were left lying on the floor of the Great Hall as the students were shepherded out.

...oooOOOooo...

Harri waited her turn in the tent. It shouldn't be much longer, judging by the crowd noises. She already had her plan and a backup plan, so she had nothing left to do but fume over the past month and the past hour.

The most recent annoyance was Bagman. Harri didn't know if he'd have made the offer of extra assistance if she'd still been a boy. She didn't know which answer would be more disturbing, either: Bagman offering special help to Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived, or Bagman offering special help to Harri, the Girl-Who-Had-the-Figure-of-a-Twelve-Year-Old.

The last month and a half had been very trying. Like Halloween, but more spread out. It started with where Harri was going to sleep. The girls didn't want him in the girls' dorms, even though Harri was now able to go up the stairs without setting off the alarm. Her roommates for the past three years were perfectly happy to have her continue sleeping where she had been. Some more perfectly happy than others. Seamus's face was openly lecherous when he suggested they all get undressed and ready for bed, while Dean tried to chat her up. Ron was torn between angry that Harry had cheated his way into the tournament, halfheartedly supportive of his friend, and perfectly happy to go along with Seamus's "ready for bed" suggestion. Even Neville didn't offer any support beyond blushing bashfully.

Classes, at least, weren't much different than before. The classwork was the same for boys and girls, after all. Even Snape couldn't honestly be said to be much worse than before Halloween, but that was only because he had been an utter dick from day one.

It was really the time outside of class that had been the problem. Stares in the hallways, whispers as she went past, and awkward conversations. The occasional taunts from Prissy Princess just to make the day complete. Those ended once Harri made arrangements with the kitchen elves to supply her with mushy chocolate brownies and she started flinging them as soon as Fleur opened her mouth. At least the other Beauxbatons students were leaving Harri alone. It still seemed they did not much care for their own champion.

Even Hagrid was treating Harry differently. A week ago he had started to invite her to meet him outside the school late at night, "Fer sumthin yeh'll love ta see. It'll help ya in yer task, too." But then he seemed to have second thoughts and he canceled the invitation saying it wasn't proper for him to meet a young lady late at night all alone. Probably Hagrid had planned to show Harri the dragons. That didn't matter. She had found them for herself one afternoon while flying around to get away from eyes and whispers.

Finally it was Harri's turn. She came out of the tent at Bagman's announcement and strode confidently to the judges' stand. The Goblet was there at Harri's insistence. Against expectation, it was still burning. She claimed it was to keep alive the tendril of magic which kept Harri in the contest against her will and kept her a girl, also against her will. Harri had demanded that the Goblet be brought out so she and Dumbledore and everyone else could see if the contract was deemed fulfilled.

At the whistle, Harri walked up to shouting distance of the dragon and asked in parseltongue, "Greetings, mother. Have you been kidnapped for these fools' entertainment just as I have?"

The dragon roared. To everyone else it sounded ferocious and threatening. To Harri it was the beginning of a productive conversation.

Harri carefully walked toward the head of the dragon, wand held down. Suicidal, or so the yells and cheers of the audience indicated. The howls of anticipation turned to screams of horror when Harri broke open the magical collar holding the dragon safely in place.

With a whoosh the dragon was in the air, buzzing the audience in the stands for the sole purpose of scaring the shit out of them. Of course, the adults in the judges' stand would be made of sterner stuff than the children in the crowd and so there was a second part to the plan.

With one last whoosh the dragon headed straight for the judges' stand, pulling straight up at the last moment. This impossible feat of aerobatics was made possible by the dragon lightening its load by hundreds of pounds. Hundreds of pounds of dragon shit. Most of it went on the judges, as intended, but a goodly amount splattered all over the Goblet of Fire.

Some even hit Moody in the face just as he was taking a sip from his ever present flask. Dragon shit and whatever he was drinking didn't mix and within moments he was on the ground screaming as his features shifted to a younger face. His eye popped out. Not that anyone was paying attention to a man on the ground just at the moment.

Harri ran up with the golden egg as the judges moaned and cursed and stood up and wiped their faces. She was just in time to see the last flicker of fire go out. Hoping against hope, she felt around her magic… and found that the tendril tying her to the cup and to the tournament had disappeared.

Now there was just one last thing. Not worrying about the hundreds of people around her, Harri stuck her hand in her pants.

And found she was still a _she_.

Enraged, Harri screamed and then kicked the cup formerly known as the Goblet of Fire. But it was still full of smoldering dragon shit and it was still sitting in a pile of dragon shit. _Runny_ dragon shit. Harri lost her footing and landed with a splat, getting shit all over her. Perfect.

...oooOOOooo...

**Author's Note**: I make no excuses.


	2. You Can't Keep a Good Story Down

**Author's Note**: You have no one to blame but yourselves. A high fraction of reviewers asked for a continuation. This is normal, and I normally ignore such requests unless I have more story to tell. When I wrote the first chapter of this abomination, I had no more story to tell. But then Slytherin66 gave me a few ideas via PM. Yes, this means that Slytherin66 is to some degree the father of this atrocity. Please direct all vituperation and vomit his way.

Despite my best efforts, some semblance of a plot has crept in. Fear not. The plot, such as it is, is pointless, banal, and stupid. And this chapter is at least as disgusting as its predecessor and I've managed to avoid any semblance of character growth. Literary merit? Yah, right.

**Chapter 2: You Can't Keep a Good Story Down. Or this One, Either**

Draco and his former bodyguards crawled past quietly before the Yule Ball. Most likely they were heading for the kitchens to get their supper. Nobody wanted them at the Ball. Nobody wanted them anywhere, but Dumbledore kept them in the school until someone had a better idea of what to do with them. Harri didn't pay them much mind. She, and everyone, had gotten used to their new appearance. Actually, appearance aside, they were much easier to deal with than they had been. Not a nasty word passed Draco's lips. Nothing passed Draco's lips. Not going out, anyway.

Harri lined up with the other champions and their dates. With _her_ date. She couldn't believe she had a date. A _boy_ date.

The only good news was that she was not the smallest person in the lineup. Her date was a quarter inch shorter and almost as thin. On the down side, her date had a slightly more feminine face than she did. Looking down at her un-bounteous chest and snake hips, she grumped that he would have looked better in this gown, too. On the up side, he looked actually quite cute in Harri's – Harry's – never-worn dress robes.

Them getting together was kind of a surprise. Well, they weren't really together, this was just a practical arrangement so he could attend the ball and she wouldn't get the year-long detention that bitch McGonagall had threatened.

Oh, who was she kidding? They were together.

As the four couples promenaded out into the Great Hall in front of hundreds of eyes, the only gasps of surprise were for how nicely Hermione had cleaned up. Colin being at Harri's side was no surprise at all. How could it be? Every Gryffindor had seen her vitriolic verbal venting at him in the common room, for stalking her even after the change. And everyone had seen the fierce kiss when her body surprised her and overrode her anger. That had led to panic and a quick departure when she realized what she was doing, followed by scrubbing out her mouth, followed by an awkward apology to the doubly-assaulted boy, followed by another labial assault, followed by another disorderly retreat, followed by …

When she stopped to think about it, Harri hated herself. When she wasn't thinking about it, she found herself lip-locked with the boy. And male instincts were strong in the just-turned-fourteen boy and his ancestors must have mated with an octopus because his hands were _everywhere_. And when she noticed that she liked that, Harri hated herself again and got depressed and then she stopped paying attention to what she was doing and then she found herself embracing Colin again.

It took a while, between the yelling and the smooching and the running away, but finally Colin managed to tell Harri why he'd been chasing around after her. An older student had a business proposal. "You and Delacour re-enact your fight in the Great Hall. We'll film it and sell copies to middle-aged wizards. We'll get rich! There's big money in porn, even soft-core porn. And girl-on-girl stuff? Money in the bank."

Harri was disgusted. "You realize I'm fourteen, right? And I look like I'm twelve?"

"Oh, right! That's even better. We sell limited-edition copies to a more, ah, discerning customer base. We'll make so much money our grandchildren will never be poor!"

That boy would never have poor grandchildren. His bits were in a jar in Harri's trunk, properly preserved to keep them fresh and horrifying. Who said she never learned anything in Potions?

Dinner before the Yule Dance was a challenge. A wet, annoying challenge. Prissy Princess, taking an opportunity to improve her last-place standing, turned on the charm with the male judges. Her Veela allure was turned up to 11 and she toyed with her calamari in a most unprofessional manner. Or maybe it was a professional manner. There were all those rumors about how Veela normally supported themselves. Maybe Prissy Princess was just practicing for her professional debut. As may be, every male at the table was drooling buckets. Even the headmaster. It was the most disturbing thing Harri had ever seen, a thousand-year-old man getting all stupid and dropping his silverware so he could get a look up Delacour's dress.

Harri was wearing a dress. A knee-length dress, to make dancing easier. She kicked out when Dumbledore's head was under the table. His perving was cut down by half when his eye turned purple and swelled shut. Pomfrey refused to fix it after Cho whispered in her ear.

During the dance, Harri and Colin's inexperience was shown in the way they kept tripping over each other. Colin had to pull their pelvises together hard one time. This kept them from falling but got them ejected from the Grand Hall with detentions for "conduct unbecoming". Conduct unbecoming of teenagers living in a co-ed boarding school with a student:teacher ratio of 30:1? McGonagall's hormones must have dried up so long ago she couldn't even remember what it was like to have them.

Outside was more pleasant than the noisy crush. Warming charms had awakened flowers four months early. Insects were also awakened. Colin flicked a beetle off of Harri's shoulder. The beetle went right into Snape's mouth when he popped out from behind a bush, doubtlessly to take points from Gryffindor. Two seconds later, Snape's head was ripped apart and Rita Skeeter appeared out of nowhere, cut in half.

Colin was traumatized. Not Harri. She'd burned a man to death with her (his) bare hands when she (he) was eleven. Her only regret was that she'd picked the wrong date in the Weasley twins' "When Will Snape Get What's Coming to Him?" pool. She'd missed out on over two hundred galleons in prize money! That made her sad.

**...ooo000ooo...**

Draco Malfoy had managed to get on Harri's bad side in the weeks before the Yule Ball. That is, get more on Harri's bad side. That is, not tiptoe around her when she was cranky.

"So, Potter, if you get yourself cleaned up and use a few glamours, you'll be almost acceptable to accompany me to the ball. I'll handle talking to the ministry representatives and other important people, as befits a wizard of my station. You'll need to learn to keep quiet and to walk one step behind me, but you can be trained in the time we have."

"Behind you, Malfoy? There's no room, with Crabbe and Goyle staying snug into you all the time."

Malfoy turned red – well, a washed-out pink – with anger. A minute later, after they figured it out, Crabbe and Goyle were angry, too. Either that or hungry, or maybe constipated. It was hard to tell with them. "Potter, you're about to find out what happens to little girls with big mouths."

Harri had not grown up as a girl, so she had not learned the common wisdom that it is not safe for girls to go out by themselves.

Of course, in the non-magical world the reason for this is that girls are smaller and weaker and subject to abuse by men and boys.

Witches with a wand in hand are just as capable of defending themselves, or attacking, as wizards. Witches were often victimized, but only because they had been trained to be victims.

And even the Dursleys had not managed to train Harry to be a victim. And Harri was more than "just as capable". And Harri's temper had been on a low boil from the past month's nonsense. And Harri's temper was on a high boil today because her female body was acting up.

"Malfoy, everyone's tired of having to take your shit. It's time for you to take someone else's shit."

**...ooo000ooo...**

The class of lower-year students who first saw the three Slytherins was frightened by the strange monster crawling through the hallway. Nearby teachers were called to drive it into an empty classroom and then Hagrid was brought in to identify it. "I've never seen th' like. Some sort o' human centipede, I think."

It took two more days to match up the missing students and the monster that they had put in a pen. Draco, in the back, had lost a lot of weight. Poor diet, maybe.

**...ooo000ooo...**

The talk had been both frightening and enlightening. It wasn't just _a_ talk. _The_ Talk. Harri and Colin had been found, half-clothed, shortly after classes resumed. Neither of them had a clue what they were doing but they were well on the way to figuring it out.

Sirius had bagged, claiming lack of appropriate knowledge, the inappropriateness of an extremely studly man talking with a young girl, and a very overdue dental appointment. Pomfrey had bagged, claiming she had no materials to give a boy-turned-girl and that it wasn't her job, anyway. McGonagall of course didn't tell Harry anything. In fact, she expressly forbade Hermione from telling Harry anything, saying that some secrets of womanhood are not to be discussed with men or boys, ever. When Harry pointed out that she was a girl and had been for over two months and probably would be for the rest of her life, McGonagall gave her a detention for arguing with a teacher. McGonagall really needed to pull the stick out of her ass. Or put one in. Whatever worked.

Faced with an urgent need for information and being blocked at every turn, Harry turned to one of the few girls who didn't treat her strangely. Or no more strangely than she treated everyone else. Luna Lovegood might act like an airhead, but she sure knew her stuff. Harri learned not only the basics of hygiene and what went where but important tidbits like, "Your first time, don't choose a partner who's too big. If he's big he'll rip you apart." No problems there. Harri was lucky that her boyfriend was no taller than she was.

Luna told Harri other things Harry might never have found out. Things like the usefulness of burning certain leaves to put a partner in the mood. And how doing a headstand for twenty minutes after sex was better than any contraceptive charm. And how alcohol should be avoided during pregnancy but LSD was harmless. ("My mother swore by it.")

Things like, the woman's role in a stable relationship is to lead the man by the penis wherever she wanted him to go. And if that didn't work, just shift her grip and drag him by the balls.

And Luna had day-to-day practical tips, too. Harri was unable to obtain the supplies she now needed. Luna had brought some but they all went missing early in the school year. No problem! Roommate's socks, if thoroughly laundered, worked just fine. And it wasn't like you were stealing them, if you gave them back when you were done with them. Under their pillows was good, so they wouldn't be missed.

**...ooo000ooo...**

On the morning of the second task, Harri was up early, looking for Colin. This was another Luna tip: When you're feeling cranky and crampy every month, find your boyfriend and scream at him until you feel better. But the little bastard was nowhere to be found. Oh, how he'd pay for that.

Eventually making it down to the lake, Harri was just in time to learn that Colin was hidden down there somewhere and she had to get him back. She'd figured out the secret of the golden egg by accident a few weeks ago. Yet another Luna tip: not many people like water sports, but you should try it to see if you do. Harri and Colin had thrown water balloons at each other and even splashed around in a big tub of water. It wasn't distasteful, just pointless, though Harri made a note to try it again when she had more of a figure for her clothes to cling to. Regardless, the stupid egg had rolled into the water and after that it was easy to figure out.

Harri had planned on boycotting this task, as the binding magical contract was no longer in force. But it was different with Colin under the water. She had to get him back! Who would she scream at without him?

Harri couldn't go get Colin herself. According to Luna, if you took a bath or went swimming during that time, it set up a chain reaction and you could bleed to death.

Glancing at Prissy Princess, Harri remembered the calamari trick at the Yule Ball. And she thought of the Giant Squid. And she thought of a transfiguration Luna had told her about. (Luna was amazing! Harri would have to think of some really nice way to thank her.) And she looked at Prissy Princess again.

When the task started, the other three jumped into the water, charms and transfigurations showing their strategies. Harri just slapped her hand on the water a few times and yelled, "Hey, Giant Squid! I've got a job for you. Really good pay, easy work!" When the sea monster came close, Harri explained her offer. The squid's eyes popped wide and then it was off like a shot.

In just minutes all four hostages were carefully placed on the dock and the squid was eagerly waving all eight arms and two tentacles at Harri. Ten transfigurations later and the tentacle monster was off again.

The one-hour deadline came. The deadline went. The other three champions didn't come, but the Giant Tentacle Monster did, many times. It – no, _he_, multiply and gigantically _he_ – waved the three in the air near the dock. The judges all went down to investigate, then they were all dragged into the water. Harri kept well back. No sense in tempting the monster.

After another hour, the three champions and the five judges were tossed onto the dock. All were badly disheveled and of them all, only Dumbledore wasn't horrified and weeping. Maybe he viewed it as an important introduction to a new species. Maybe.

**...ooo000ooo...**

A boom signified the start of the third task. The other three champions, replacements for the disabled original three, had been allowed to start at the same time as Harri because of the confusion of the second task. No clear winner was identifiable, except for Harri, and she was being punished because the squid had managed to get some.

The way Harri saw it, she was being punished by being forced to compete in the third task at all. No more binding magical contract, no more competitors, no more judges. What did they want from her? Obviously more danger and more entertainment for the masses. Obviously, dumping on her was the best way to get that.

Well, she wasn't going to let them get away with dumping on _her_.

As the other three champions took off running, Harri conjured a series of large, thin metal disks and arranged them in a ring around her. She then cast a silence spell on herself.

She would have warned Colin what was about to happen. But she was annoyed with him this evening. _That_ didn't go _there_!

With a grin of pure mischief, Harri cast her last spell of the evening. All of the disks started vibrating at the exact same frequency: 92 cents below the lowest octave of E-flat.

With a mass groan, all of the spectators shit themselves at the same time. Minister of Magic Fudge – and if that name wasn't a harbinger of doom, then Harri had never taken a Divination class – was a politician. He was full of shit. Once it had all left his body, there wasn't enough body left to sustain life. "Oh my God, she killed Corny!" someone yelled. "You bastard!"

The Brown Noise, a dreadful secret found in the Black Library — or should that be the Brown Library? — had been used over the centuries to discredit opponents in political debates and to win duels. This was the first time it had been broadcast over the Wizarding Wireless Network. Sirius was impressed that Harri had managed to make all of Wizarding Britain shit themselves at the same time.

Except for Harri herself. She'd protected herself from the Brown Noise. She'd put up shields to keep away any splatter. She'd gotten away with it clean.

Then the smell hit.


	3. Winners Eat Pie

**Chapter 3: Our Heroine Wins. And Eats Pie.**

Harri was on her back, pinned between two people. This was both good and bad. The bad part was, Harri was on the Hogwarts Express, heading back to Privet Drive.

The good part was, Harri was pinned between Luna and Colin.

The surprisingly sexy part was, Colin was in a gimp suit. Luna had revealed herself (pun intended) as a surprisingly aggressive (and surprisingly sexy) pervert. She had commandeered a compartment on the Hogwarts express, evicting a pair of sixth year students through sheer force of personality. After she'd sealed the door she told Colin to strip and to put on a show while doing it. If his dance was good enough he would be allowed to participate. It wasn't good enough. Luna had him on the floor in a gimp suit before he could protest. Harri thought he looked good like that.

The shocking part was, well, Luna. "I'm a Black through my grandmother and I've inherited a family trait. I am a metamorphmagus, though I can control only one or two things because I've only got a little Black in me." Luna shifted before Harri's curious and then surprised and then awestruck eyes. "And now you're going to get a little Black in you." It wasn't so little. And it was a good thing she'd put up silencing charms. And it was a good thing Harri was on top of Colin, for padding. Luna liked it rough. "You might as well get used to it. Once you go Black, you never go back."

**...ooo000ooo...**

At the Third Task, Harri had been down near the beginning of the maze, surrounded by her now quiet subwoofers and splatter shield. She had been enjoying the sights and sounds of every one in considerable discomfort, but pretty soon the air was too foul to breathe. Why oh why hadn't she learned the bubblehead charm?

Harri made her way away from the crowd and toward the castle. She was desperately seeking fresh air, but almost eight months as a teenage girl had taught her to have eyes on the back and sides of her head, alert for "accidental" touches. Therefore she was not taken by surprise when a short, pudgy man came out of the shadows and tried to grab her. In the resulting scuffle she managed to clout him a good one in the nose. He staggered back and she ran toward the castle. What a creep! Wait a minute, was that…?

In another part of the country, Peter Pettigrew appeared with a pop. In one hand he clutched his nose and in the other a pilfered plastic bag.

Unwillingly making his way toward his master, Peter dawdled and tried to think of a way to escape the punishment he knew he was in for. He noticed that in the plastic bag was... A sock? A bloody sock?

"Master, I was unable to capture Potter because her guards were too many for me. But I was able to take some of her blood. Will it be enough, Master?"

Dark Lord Misshapen-baby-thing told Peter to go ahead with the ritual. A few drops of blood were all that was needed, and the sock was simply _drenched_.

Peter whimpered as he cut off his hand and threw it into the stew pot with Voldemort and the bones. The blood went in next, sock and all.

As Peter lay there bleeding he watched the cauldron urgently, hoping his master would be pleased enough to keep him alive. But what was in the cauldron was... Not Voldemort. Not even human.

What sat the cauldron was a used feminine hygiene product, big enough for an elephant.

Peter Pettigrew bled to death wondering what had gone wrong.

**...ooo000ooo...**

The usual parliament of owls fluttered in at breakfast a few mornings after the third task. It was a week before the end of the school year.

Harri watched the owls with more interest than usual. She wasn't expecting any deliveries today, but the owls were the timing cue for another event. Trying not to make it obvious, she watched the entrance to the Great Hall.

And right on schedule a delivery man walked in. Harri had had to arrange for special delivery because owls directed to the staff were rerouted and did not make their deliveries in front of the student body. She thought it was worth the trouble and expense because McGonagall had really pissed her off: three-hour detentions every night for the rest of the year and for the first three months of the next school year, just because the crone had soiled herself at the tournament. Well, she was one of the people who had forced Harri to participate. When Harri appealed the detentions to Dumbledore, on the grounds that her method for completing the tournament was not subject to review or criticism by staff members not involved in the tournament, the old wizard simply mumbled something about "has my full confidence" and "ruined a very nice new robe".

"Professor McGonagall! Professor McGonagall! Got a special delivery for Professor McGonagall! Here you go, Madame. Your first delivery from Dildo-a-Day. 'Tools for what ails you' (registered trademark). If you'll just sign on the dotted line to confirm receipt?"

McGonagall signed, looking puzzled. The flamboyantly dressed wizard managed to escape from the Great Hall before she had opened the package. She was shocked speechless as she held up the realistically shaped, realistically colored, and realistically textured "relaxation tool". The gales of laughter from the students knocked her out of the shock and she started flinging detentions around like confetti. Harri managed to escape detention by hiding behind a larger student.

The next morning, McGonagall drove the delivery wizard out of the hall before he could get to the head table. He was a competent professional, however, and managed to launch the day's delivery so that it landed in her tea. Pointing upward at her. Many detentions were handed out that day, too.

The third morning, a little old lady hobbled up to the head table during breakfast and told McGonagall she had an important message for her. Leaning in, she gestured for the professor to bring her head closer. "Special delivery!" she hollered in McGonagall's ear as she thwapped the teacher in the forehead with a realistically shaped but unrealistically colored model. Cackling, she ran away, transforming back into the delivery wizard just before reaching the doors.

The fourth morning, there was no delivery wizard and no little old lady. There was, however, the delivery owl for the daily Prophet. The doll had a little trouble this morning, likely because its load was heavier than usual. The day's "tool for what ails you" was a bright green, nicely matching the headmaster's garish robes.

The fifth morning, McGonagall did not show up for breakfast. In her first class of the day, which just happened to include the Gryffindor fourth years, a female prefect interrupted the class to tell the professor there was an urgent letter for her. As soon as McGonagall broke the wax seal, the transfiguration ended and the students all saw her holding a three-pronged, purple tool.

The sixth morning, McGonagall skipped both breakfast and class, choosing instead to hide in her apartment. No one was sure how the delivery had been managed, but the result was that the old woman burst screaming from her rooms, followed by a clear model bouncing along after her like a pogo stick.

The seventh morning, the last breakfast before the students went home, the delivery wizard returned. "I was so sad to hear that Professor McGonagall had to be admitted to St Mungo's," he confidentially said to Dumbledore, whispering low enough that students in the far corner of the Great Hall had to strain to hear. "It's not unheard of when people over-use our products. She should have read the instructions which suggested twelve times a day as a reasonable limit. Well, nothing for it now. I'll just leave this here for when she returns."

Arranging for special delivery had been very expensive, but worth every knut.

**...ooo000ooo...**

During the dildo distraction, Harri learned that Dumbledore had arranged to be buried in Hogwarts grounds at the appropriate time. She wasted some time trying to figure out how to bury him right now, figuring this was as an appropriate time as any, but finally gave it up as a bad deal. So instead she decided to crap the land for the beloved headmaster and screwer-upper of her life. She erected an outhouse right over the plot where Dumbledore was to be buried. And in so doing she discovered something disturbing. The late, lamented Severus Snape was buried right next to Dumbledore's place. In the location that a wife would be buried. Very disturbing.

Dumbledore has also been busy. He had managed to pull himself away from the Giant Tentacle Monster long enough to lay down the law. Literally. The Wizengamot had just passed a law in a closed door session proclaiming that, because of Harri's prominence, importance to the wizarding world, and utter inexperience with her responsibilities to same, Dumbledore was to be given full custody of Harri to bring her up properly in the wizarding tradition. Naturally, Dumbledore's first move was to send Harri back to the Dursleys so she could be isolated and uneducated. Harri already had a few ideas regarding Dumbledore and the Wizengamot.

Those plans would have to wait. For the summer, she was locked inside the Dursley's house and totally cut off from the wizard in the world.

That's not to say she wasn't kept busy. Harry had a revelation early in the summer. If she was forced to clean the house and the furniture and the dishes but was never allowed to use any of it, there was no reason for it to stay really clean. If she was forced to cook but was not allowed to eat what she cooked, there was no reason for the food to stay clean. Creative use of bodily waste was the order of the day.

**...ooo000ooo...**

Toward the end of August, Harri sat at a cheap table with a motherly older woman. Two angry men stood near the wall.

Things were not as dire as it sounds.

"Oh, I'm ashamed to even talk about it," Harri wept. She was at a police station after her great escape from the locked smallest bedroom. "It happened on the day I returned from school. I had one on top of me and the other underneath me. I screamed and screamed but no one heard. And then I was locked in my room and I didn't have any of my own clothes, only Dudley's cast-offs."

After the crap the Dursleys had put her through for the past two months, and the past fourteen years, Harri wanted some pay-back. The front door being smashed down when Luna and Colin finally found her and broke her out of her summer prison wasn't even a start. Pay-back was going to be a bitch.

Harri was reading from Dumbledore's play-book. She wasn't exactly lying but she certainly wasn't telling the whole truth. A half-truth here, a misdirection there, and let the police believe whatever they wanted to.

"So, let me see if I have this straight. Your uncle and your cousin, ah, accosted you after you returned from school?"

Harri just nodded, tears in her eyes. It was true, after all. She was barely in the house when Vernon poked her in the shoulder and said, "Listen, boy, there'll be no freaks and no freakishness here this summer. Do you understand me, boy?"

"And now you're, er, in a family way?" Harri burst into buckets of tears.

The police sergeant nodded at the burly patrolmen. "You'll go pick them up, right? And you expect them to resist arrest, right?"

Harri pulled herself together and reached into her purse. "Could you give these to Uncle Vernon when you see him? Tell him I got him a gift just for this occasion."

The sergeant handed the six-pack of anal lube tubes to the senior patrolman. "Bring one of the crime scene boys with you. We'll want a good picture of his face when you give him these."

Harri went with the social services lady quietly enough. She'd have to stay with someone for a few days but she wanted to drop out of sight and go to Luna's house soon. She'd have to think of a way to make it look like Petunia was responsible for her disappearance.

After the baby was born Harri would use a potion that Sirius had given her from the Black library along with a little bit of Vernon's blood she had obtained and, lo and behold, Vernon would be the father so far as any muggle paternity tests were concerned.

Yes, pay-back was a bitch. And soon enough Vernon was going to be someone's bitch.

**...ooo000ooo...**

Harri stayed with Luna after September first. Colin had to return to Hogwarts. The two girls managed to get away from the school due to pregnancy. Dumbledore had resisted but Harri's talk with the board regarding her disruption to the school and the entire wizarding world last year and veiled threats of more of the same, combined with Luna's not at all veiled threats to publish certain photographs of Dumbledore and the Giant Tentacle Monster, managed to mute Dumbledore's influence.

Luna's father had been surprisingly understanding, or perhaps simply oblivious. When Luna told her father that she was going to be a daddy, he simply nodded and told her to be a good male role model for the child. He had allowed Luna to stay at home with Harri this year because "no daughter of mine is going to get some young lady knocked up and then just abandon her to a cold and uncaring world."

**...ooo000ooo...**

Late in the fall, Luna and Harri performed a practical Charms and Transfiguration examination as part of their home schooling. They did some work under Muggle London, then transformed each other into ugly old crones and visited the Ministry building.

Venting a Muggle sewer line into the Ministry ventilation system wasn't difficult at all. Harri had wanted to have sewage running down the walls, but concealing the source would have been too difficult to conceal. This was better. The smell filtering through the underground building was vaguely disgusting and it would tend to make people sick.

Fair enough. The ministry made her sick.

**...ooo000ooo...**

The blessed event occurred in late March. The obstetrician who had been taking care of Harri had seen plenty of teenage mothers with no father in sight. He was glad that young Harri had a friend to stand with her. Though the friend seemed a little strange. She was sure that the child would be a girl "because neither of us has a Y chromosome to make a boy." And then, during the delivery, Harri's profanity and threats were very common, but not usually directed against another girl. "If you ever put it in me again I'll rip it right off!"

Minutes after the little girl was born, Harri groaned and then… there was a boy lying on the delivery bed.

Luna waggled her fingers in front of the doctor's and nurse's faces. "You did not just see a girl turn into a boy."

The doctor frowned disapprovingly. "You know the Jedi mind trick doesn't really work, don't you?"

Luna simply shrugged. "I did the Jedi mind trick and now you're convinced that the girl who just delivered a baby turned into a boy. Are you sure I haven't done anything to your memory?"

Assured that the baby was perfectly healthy and did not need to stay in the hospital, the teens made their escape. Because she was "obviously" the new mother, Luna got to ride in the wheelchair, whee-ing the whole way. Poor Harry had to hobble along after even though he felt he had just passed a bowling ball through his urethra.

**...ooo000ooo...**

Harry and Luna had spent time with Colin every Hogsmeade weekend and over the Christmas break. They visited him in Hogsmeade for the last time in late April.

"I'm sorry, Colin, but I have to break up with you. Now that I'm a boy again, it would be just too weird to go out with another boy." It was going to be weird enough, explaining to their daughter that Luna was the father and Harry was the mother. Fitting Colin in would just be too difficult.

Colin didn't take it well, not at all. He cried, he begged, he offered to change into a girl. Harry held firm, though Luna was getting intrigued by the possibilities. "Let's say you change into a girl. Would you be willing to wear a collar and handcuffs and call me Mistress Luna?"

Feeling tired by the drama, Harry and Luna went back home to their family. Mr Lovegood couldn't exactly be trusted to take care of a baby, but they had brought in Dobby, who was more than delighted to bond to Harry's family. And even though the elf was clearly insane, he was less insane than Mr L.

In bed, Luna pointed out one thing that she missed from Harry's girl days. "I'll never again be able to eat Harri pie."

"Then I'll just have to eat for two," Harry mumbled.

**...ooo000ooo...**

**Epilogue**

In his dark, dank lair (his family's basement rec room; he'd turned off most of the lights and the dehumidifier was broken) Colin brooded. He'd been dumped. Cast aside. Traded in for someone better. Er, different. Not better. This would not be allowed to stand! He would win her, or him, back. He would watch her, er him, learn everything about her/him. And then he would take her back!

Colin Creavey closed his eyes. Creepy Dark Lord Stalker opened them.

**Author's Note**: Colin's transformation in the epilogue is a nod both to the birth of Rorschach in _The Watchmen_ and to the birth of Voldemort in clell65619's _Harry Potter and the Acts of Betrayal_ (story 3807777 on FFN), which I read before _Watchmen_.


End file.
